


What Do You Want?

by Shay_Moonsilk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21896518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: When an angel goes six thousand years being told he is doing a mediocre job, eventually that angel starts to believe that he's the one that's mediocre.Thankfully Crowley is there to set him to rights with some cocoa and chocolates.Prompt: Touch-starved Aziraphale and Crowley fluff.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 371
Collections: O Lord Heal This Gift Exchange





	What Do You Want?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Realafah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Realafah/gifts).



> Happy Holidays! This is a present for Realafah, who wanted touch-starved Aziraphale with some Crowley comfort. I hope that this delivered and you like it!

In hindsight, Crowley should have seen this coming so  _ much _ sooner, and it will be a very long time before he can forgive himself for  _ missing _ it. 

All of the clues were in front of him. 

Clue One: Their very first conversation was  _ filled  _ with Aziraphale's anxiety over doing the wrong thing. 

Clue Two: The fact that the angel just went along with whatever atrocities Heaven had planned during the Great Flood, and all the acts of Holy Violence with an uncomfortable shrug and an _I'm not consulted on policy decisions_. 

Clue Three: How he had miracle  _ quotas _ . And didn’t seem to think that going over the quota was a good idea, even in the wake of what would be instant  _ death  _ for a human. 

Little clues sprinkled over their six thousand years of existence, but Crowley was not adept at recognizing little clues.

More little clues built into a much faster pace when the time for Armageddon was upon them. They would, in the years that they raised the wrong antichrist, report to their respective Head Offices and then tell each other what was being exchanged. Aziraphale would tell him how the other Angels told him that they didn't think he had what it took to stop it, and that he was headed for failure. Only Aziraphale would say this in such a matter-of-fact way, with a shrug and a ‘ _ oh well what can you do? _ ’ sort of attitude and the tone of it all didn’t raise any sort of red flag for the Demon. 

Then Aziraphale started getting  _ threats _ from the archangels, and they outright _beat_ him when they learned about his friendship with Crowley. This would have helped raised his suspicion, but Crowley didn’t actually know about this yet. 

_ (But best to note it, for it will come up later.)  _

Crowley isn't as smart as Aziraphale. Or rather, he is plenty smart, but in a different way. He was also a lot more ‘big picture’ in their friendship and had always been so worried about making sure that they were surviving one day to the next with neither of their bosses knowing about their Arrangement. 

It takes the failed executions for him to begin realizing that there was something he had been missing. 

This horrible theory starts to reveal itself when he sees the Angels sneer in front of him, thinking he is Aziraphale. How Gabriel tells him to  _ "Shut your stupid mouth and die already." _

And he _smiles_ , in a way that suggests that this is not the first time he has said something so callous, so cruel. 

Just how… dismissive they all are. Like they truly don't care about Aziraphale, how they doubt him, demean him, belittle him. They don’t  _ care  _ about the job he does, and have  _ no  _ faith in him to be able to do it well. 

It goes deeper than something to just expect at a job before going home and leaving it behind. Aziraphale’s job is his life. It’s not the same for Crowley. Everyone in Hell acts like they don’t like each other - and that they are all doing bad jobs. That’s good for them. But Crowley has always had respect, and enough separation to do his work. Occasionally Down Stairs would send a commendation, and he’s been liked enough by his superiors that they just leave him alone in between metaphorical pats on the back. He’s had creativity and flexibility to do what he does. 

Aziraphale has never had that. 

In the wake of them on their own side, Crowley begins to see with terrifying accuracy how this treatment has warped Aziraphale’s own perception of himself. 

It starts, as most of their moments do, with a walk.

They’re trying out a trendy new dessert place that apparently does incredible things with Hot Cocoa. Crowley is complaining, because he’s in the mood to. Aziraphale has magic and reading to be his hobbies. Crowley likes to yell at plants, yell at ridiculous people on TV, and occasionally to moan about the activities Aziraphale has them doing. 

“This is  _ stupid _ ,” He drawls, keeping his hands in his pockets to saunter next to his favorite person. Crowley would  _ prefer  _ to wrap his arm around Aziraphale, but in the wake of their romantic relationship the angel had asked for them to take physical affection slowly. Reluctantly, Crowley goes along because it makes him so sad to see how badly Aziraphale  _ jumps  _ when he puts a hand on him. He’s unsure if it’s because of his innocence, or he just doesn’t know how to cope with a demon touching him. 

“This is a  _ terrible  _ idea,” He groans again, “It’s the middle of  _ summer _ , why are we getting  _ hot  _ chocolate?” 

Thankfully, he happens to catch Aziraphale’s eye in that moment, and he becomes very glad that he did. 

His face just sort of -  _ collapses _ \- and looks so  _ sad _ . It makes Crowley want to take a shot of holy water. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale flusters, looking around desperately. “Oh my dear, I was only joking, of course, you’re right, that is a stupid idea - here!” He began pushing Crowley into a pub, the first door available to them, “This would be much better! Yes, of course, much better of an idea.” 

They’re inside and sitting down, and Aziraphale has already left to get drinks before Crowley realizes what just happened. 

Aziraphale comes back with two pints, smiling at him as if nothing had happened. 

"Angel, I didn't mean it," Crowley says, "I was just putting up a fuss to be an ass." 

"Nevermind all that," Aziraphale waves him off, and somehow that makes him feel  _ worse _ . 

\-----

A few days later, Crowley visits him at the bookshop with flowers and chocolates. 

It's easier for him to apologize through actions anyway, and Aziraphale is smart enough to understand that, he's  _ sure _ of it. 

People are in the bookshop, milling about and perusing the impressive titles his angel has stored. Aziraphale looks furious to see them all there, and the sight warms Crowley’s heart. He loves his bastard of an angel. 

He pitches his voice, so it echoes throughout the space. “Hey Aziraphale,” He sauntered over, placing the chocolates on the table. Crowley pulls Aziraphale into his arms - it’s a new move for them. They are moving slowly. They’ve had to pretend to be casual reluctant acquaintances for so long, and had never had the space or time to acknowledge what they feel. But after dining at the Ritz together in their new lives, they  _ had  _ been able to acknowledge that there  _ were  _ feelings. 

Which was a start. 

But Aziraphale  _ freezes  _ when Crowley pulls him close, and looks alarmed at the very prospect. Yet before Crowley can pull away, he hears a noise from his angel, one that’s nearly a _whimper_. And then Aziraphale  _ leans into him.  _ Interesting. 

“H-hello dear,” Aziraphale gave him a smile, “It’s lovely to see you.” 

Some of the customers are looking uncomfortable, so Crowley pulls him closer, and _there’s_ that very same noise. 

“Brought those chocolates you like so much,” He grins, and he begins to feel bold in the way Aziraphale’s smile goes _shy_. Pressing his luck, he leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Already the customers are leaving, and Aziraphale is looking at him as if he hung the stars. Which, sure, he did, but if he’d pluck them all out of the sky just to put them back if Aziraphale would keep looking at him like that. 

Aziraphale doesn’t quite return the gesture, and his hands flutter a bit. As though unsure of what to do. 

Crowley lowers his voice, this time not wanting any of these mortals to overhear him. “Something wrong?” He asks, gently cupping his cheek. Aziraphale shudders a bit, and leans into him. 

“It’s just… it’s nice,” Aziraphale looks focused, and Crowley knows that he is trying to search for the right words to use. “I… I was worried I upset you the other day, and I’m very sorry about that.” 

He wants to hit himself. “It’s not your fault, I was being a dick,” Crowley replies, “As far as I’m concerned, all your ideas are good ones.” 

“Now we both know that’s not true,” Aziraphale stepped away, and Crowley’s arms already felt empty. “Remember, I’m the stupid angel that nearly got himself discorporated for food when I don’t even have to eat.”

“Don’t talk about my best friend like that,” Crowley said, narrowing his eyes. “And I had those crepes with you, if food were my thing I’d’ve risked discorporation for it too. The French figured out food  _ years  _ before  _ this  _ country did.” 

Aziraphale gave an indignant sniff, but there was a small smile. Emboldened, Crowley stepped forward, and took Aziraphale back into his arms. “I think you’re plenty smart.” He said, “And if those other stupid angels didn’t see that, then that means I get more of you to myself. Which is fine with me, ‘cause I’m a selfish demon.”

“A selfish demon?” Aziraphale looks amused. “So selfish you are, bringing me chocolates to put me in a good mood.” 

“Well they’re not  _ just  _ for you,” Crowley said, “They’re for  _ both  _ of us, because they got those ‘Christmas in July’ movie specials on the telly. So how's about I tempt you to putting on the specials, and I'll share the chocolates with you." 

He’d put a television upstairs  _ years  _ ago. It was just the television, no cable box or speaker system, because Crowley hadn’t known those things were required. It was however the largest screen that had been available, because Crowley wasn’t going to settle for anything less than the best for his angel. 

Aziraphale smiled, and indulgently let Crowley lead him upstairs. He let his demon putter around, situating him on the couch, the chocolates within reach, and then went to make them both cocoa. For his sake, Aziraphale would pretend that Crowley really would be eating the chocolates and drinking the cocoa, even though he knew that eventually Crowley would pass both cups to him, and most of the chocolates besides. 

Once he was done bustling about, Crowley sat down next to him, and gave a  _ snap  _ of the fingers to turn the television on. Aziraphale hadn’t much kept up to date with talkies, but he knew that Crowley secretly _adored_ romantic comedies. So he nibbled on the chocolates, leaning back against the couch. 

“Would you like a blanket?” He asked, because even in the summer his demon got cold. Crowley shook his head, mentioning he’d get one later. 

They were about a half hour into the film when Crowley let out a yawn and a stretch, raising his arm over their heads and letting it wrap around Aziraphale. The angel blushed, as Crowley slowly pulled him against his side. It was… it was very nice. 

Aziraphale scooted closer, letting himself rest against his best friend. 

“This is nice,” He whispered, and Crowley made an agreeing noise. He stopped paying attention to the film, instead wanting to relish being in his partner’s arms. Aziraphale realized he was leaning, and stiffened. 

“It’s alright,” Crowley whispered, squeezing his arm. “I like it, alright?” 

Aziraphale swallowed. “I… I don’t want to be needy,” He confessed. He didn’t want to do the wrong thing. 

“Well, lucky you, I’m a demon, and I am needy,” Crowley said. He leaned back, now laying down on the couch. As he went, he pulled Aziraphale down with him, so he was laying on top of his companion. “And this is what I want. Don’t you want what I want?”

Aziraphale could feel himself blushing, his heart warming over. “Yes, I suppose I do,” He said. He felt grateful to have someone he cared for, that could help him form what he needed when he didn’t have the words yet. “Thank you,” He said, letting his head rest on Crowley’s chest. 

Crowley, for his part, pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Nah, thank  _ you  _ angel,” He said. He was glad to have Aziraphale, in his arms, and by his side. The last six thousand years had been a good warm up, a good starting place to prepare them for the next six thousand years they would spend together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I'm Shay-Moonsilk on tumblr if you ever want to DM me, and same for Discord :)


End file.
